


An Unguarded Moment.

by yvette_cigarette



Category: Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Headcanon, M/M, Panic Attacks, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yvette_cigarette/pseuds/yvette_cigarette
Summary: ~ Before Miles can set his rescue into motion, or even properly get himself upright, Alex is urging him back under the stuffy covers with a rumbled "don't," and a tug at his long sleeve."Alex, love, let me get yeh summat.” He urges, tracking the sharp pace of his breath. “Water, a tablet, a fookin' guided meditation-"
Relationships: Miles Kane/Alex Turner
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	An Unguarded Moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags for any potential triggers! 
> 
> So I hatee writing fics on my phone, but I wrote this one on my phone and was like ooo noice. It's pretty smutty, wrote it so quick so if it's a little meh, I do apologise. 
> 
> Enjoy, wash your hands, kudos appreciated.

[An Unguarded Moment. ](https://youtu.be/qQvr2eF5zMM)

Miles rushes to the surface at the sound of Alex' panting.

Sharp, panicked breaths huffing into the pillow beside him. In the pitchy darkness, he can just make out the shape of Alex' tensed face. His eyes wrinkled shut, the hard, pursed line of his lips shoving his flushing cheeks upwards as his nostrils flare. 

"Alex?" Miles whispers on the off chance he's still asleep. His eyes dart across the length of Alex' body and his stomach tightens at the sight of it; Alex' division of the sheets holding a close resemblance to the guts of a washing machine. The duvet, the undersheet, both entwined in a swirl at Alex' feet. Alex himself is curled into a tense foetal position, the shirt he fell asleep in ending midthigh, his arms folded over his puffing chest. 

"Hey, Al, baby," Miles pursues once again in a low murmur, reaching out to stir his clenched shoulder gently. They're both on their sides. Although they’d passed out spooning, sleep had pointedly undone their lock.

"Me chest's 'urting, _again."_ Alex grumbles, opening his unlit eyes up at Miles, blinding him with that trusting gaze.

Miles groans, "shit." he motions to sit himself up, his eyes foggy with sleep. He'll flick on the lamp, take measure of Alex' state and forage some relief to offer him. 

Before Miles can set his rescue into motion, or even properly get himself upright, Alex is urging him back under the stuffy covers with a rumbled "don't," and a tug at his long sleeve. 

"Alex, love, let me get yeh summat.” He urges, tracking the sharp pace of his breath. “Water, a tablet, a fookin' guided meditation-"

"I don't need it, honest." He says in a pinched voice, rolling onto his back to blink up at Miles where he balances on his elbow, feeling helpless. 

"Well, wot…" Miles shakes his head, perhaps at Alex' manner of addressing this. "Wot...can I do, love? Tell meh what to do." 

Alex manages a sharp, rattling snicker, squeezing his eyes into their sockets and his fingers into his palms where they're balls on his chest.

Before Miles can unfurl those fists, they're reaching for his useless hands. 

"Yeh can do this, " Alex says, wrapping his clammy right hand around Miles' wrist to deposit it over his heart- 

"Jesus Alex, yer gonna fookin' blow." Miles half jokes, half legitimately panics. He feels the cruel pounding of Alex' heart under his hand and wonders how it hasn't busted out. He schools his face into the furthest thing from hysteria he can muster. 

Alex snorts, his eyes closed as he flattens his own palm over Miles' before echoing the pantomime on Miles' left peck. So they’re holding a handful of each other’s flesh and cotton-shirt covered hearts. 

Miles parks his free hand over Alex' so that it's sandwiched between Miles' calloused, warm hold and his nudging heartbeat; not nearly as violent as Alex', but roused by the rhythm of Alex' no less. 

"What're we doing?" Miles asks into the dark air between them, peering down at Alex' eyelids and concentration. He hates that he has to concerntrate on fucking _breathing._ His adjusting eyes and the street lamp behind the blinds have agreed to this view of Alex, the grey-blue sight washing over them like an Edward Hopper painting. Miles prays that Alex can't see his own face; probably scarring with concerned strokes between his brows and along his forehead where he feels a sheen of sweat forming on his shaven noggin.

"We," Alex breathes four beats in, and Miles pictures it: his twin set of talented lungs filling up with barely deserving air. 

Miles finds himself holding his breath with Alex for the following seven seconds. 

"We're sharing." Alex pinches out before the eight beat exhale that Miles joins him in. "Sharing everything." He mumbles when Miles opens his mouth. So he _can_ see him, then.

"Everything." Miles whistles, though only in his head, as even the sound of him shifting his weight cracks down like thunder. 

He wants to touch Alex, _more_ of him. Wants desperately to feel the thrum under his skin, soothe the stinging in his chest and the thick ache in his gut. 

"Did...ermm, did summat 'appen?" He attempts in a tone he hopes is gentle on Alex' mind, chancing a smoothing palm over Alex' soft belly. He feels the oversized tee under his fingers, decides to hike it over Alex' ribs when the lad hums appreciatively.

He’s met with a faultless surface of skin, the Led Zeppelin shirt Miles will never get back was all Alex wore. He never wants it back, not when it looks so good rolled above Alex' stomach. 

"Alex…" Miles' eyes roll downward, "you're hard, baby." 

It comes out softly, smooth like Miles' hand filling the dip of Alex' belly. His pulse is deafening down here too, pushing up into Miles' palm like Alex is carrying a life. And what a thing to picture. 

Alex’ hand falters from Miles’ chest. "Yeah...well, you're being very nice, and I joost...have all this pent up energy, I guess." 

"Yeh need never justify yer stiffies to me, darling boy." Miles proses smilingly, his palm splaying out, feeling over the juts of Alex' ribcage, down to the trimmed hair below his navel. 

"Do yeh want to?” Miles pauses, “I mean, not to assume-"

"Assume away." Alex sighs heavily, tugging a fat pillow under his head, tucking his hands between it and his messed hair. 

The side of his lip curls up at Miles, his expression shifting to the opposite tone of his panic, his eyes playing with Miles. Then he clicks his tongue, sighing with an eye roll when Miles spends a second too long reading his face. “Miles, don’t start shit ye ain’t-”

He isn't really sure what he's looking for when he records the notes between Alex' sharp cupid's bow and furrowed brows, his perfectly moving lips and expectant look. Perhaps the secrets to the universe, perhaps the secrets to Alex' universe.

Miles swallows, his hand curving over Alex' hip. "We don't - I mean, we can joost…"

"What, " Alex mutters, "cuddle? What are we, fifteen? Touch me dick, Mi." He giggles hoarsely, then stops to catch his breath.

He's taking in drags of air as Miles rolls on top of him, grabbing his perfect wrists and pinning him like a sleep-dusty moth to the mattress. 

It's later on, when Alex' feet are braced over Miles' shoulders and his eyes are stinging with sweat, that he revisits their pulses. Both throbs are atune to the other, they’re pulsing everywhere, between chests and linked fingers over Alex' head. Ticking in the fragile streams in their necks and wrists, beating heavily in their cocks. Sharing everything.

Alex is shuddering and mewling under Miles like a vestal virgin, which he’s come to find isn't always accidental. Miles has a mind to believe the lad adores the thick layer of solace in the submitting role. When he's unwound like an exhale under Miles' thrusts, whimpering and nodding up at him as Miles hisses out dirty talk - it’s when he can melt into the form of his wants, leaving his led body behind. 

Alex' breaths punch out of him in a way that tells Miles he's close and doesn't that just make his entire spine arch with shuddering pleasure. 

_"Baby, "_ Miles groans, it comes out like a plea because it probably is. His hips kiss and buck into Alex' as the bed and Alex squeak under him. "So close, gonna fill yeh up, babeh." He couldn't care less about how his accent drools into grunting, animalistic coos when he gets like this; wrapped in Alex, his body clenching around him like a hard lesson he'll enjoy learning, arms and legs cocooning his solid, thrusting body. 

"Yes, yes _Daddy_ , fuck me, fuck me, " Alex pants frantically, his body rippling beneath Miles with needy, squirming pleasure. 

"Yes baby, Christ - shit, you look so fookin' gorgeous, Alex, so fookin' hot." Now he's losing coherency, which is his tell. Miles has a talent for becoming hysterical when he's about to come inside Alex. Could anyone blame him? He'd probably die before thinking to dial it back. 

Alex' bell-like giggle floats up at him, periodically punctured by his litany of _ah, ah, ah_ 's. The tee is now rolled to his collarbone, his luscious mounds on full display, toned but soft, twin nipples candied over that pillowing handful of flesh. 

Miles has to lean down to flick his tongue over one, hearing Alex squawk out in surprise and then shudder, holding Miles' head to his slamming heartbeat. 

When he pulls himself away, Alex' nipples swollen and hot, he pulls Alex' hand off his dick to take the firm length in hand, squeezing it at the base to choke a moan out of him. 

"Please…" he whines, knees folded into his chest, hair plastered to his forehead and pillow.

He looks like a dream, and Miles isn't totally convinced he ever woke up. 

"I'm - fuck, I'm gonna come." Miles is the first one to say it, but when he rubs the bundle of nerves inside Alex with perfect precision, the slighter lad is cursing out, his eyes widening and rolling back, mouth gaping up at Miles as his hips buck and he comes.

His orgasm belts through him like a lightning strike, his feet flexing over Miles shoulders, his chest pushing out like a flighty bird, and his sounds - weakening whines, like somewhere he's in pain but Miles knows him, and can't help but moan when Alex goes limp again, his body twitching and shaky under Miles as he fucks into him. 

"Al-lex, " he stammers, his own skivvy pasted by sweat to his chest. His heart falters when Alex telepathically obeys, silently pulling his legs down to wrap around Miles waste the way he likes it. 

"Yeah, fuck yeah, yeh know wot I need, don't yeh Aly?" Miles growls, mouthing at Alex' jaw like an animal before he's sending Alex' body rocking and bouncing. Sleepy, fucked-out eyes hooding up at him.

When Miles does come, a few minutes later, it's with his hands on Alex' hips as he gasps and shoves in, burying himself to the hilt with sloppy jerks, marvelling in Alex' shocked inhale.

Alex' hands are linked around Miles' neck, but they flop like death either side when the fucking is done, and they're just breathing and watching each other.

It's silent, and when Alex places his palm over Miles’ heart it gives rise to a grin, Miles copying the motion to feel the life thudding up into his hand.

There's tears formed in the corners of Alex' eyes, and while Miles gathers it's born of strain and the harsh flush that dawn is adding to, he still leans in to lick at them, even though Alex always squirms away from that. 

Tonight he shuts his eyes and let's Miles fulfil is depraved desires, seeming simply too exhausted to protest. 

Miles tastes salt, nosing over Alex' heated cheeks to mouth at his jaw silently, feeling the lad's breathing settling under him. 

"Thanks for...erm…" Alex mumbles, his eyes closed, nostrils softly flaring. "For...mmm, " he exhales, melted like satiated clay on the underside of Miles' sweating body.

Miles hums as if to return the sentiment, kissing Alex on the tip of that perfect nose before rolling onto his back, letting his own heavy lids fall shut. 

Alex grabs Miles' hand and kisses his knuckles, he's still holding it when Miles hears his breath deepen, soft little puffs of light sleep rolling over him.

They wake up a few hours later, sticky with their orgasms and heavy with lingering affection. Miles does a load of washing while Alex pours cornflakes.

They munch down the cereal on the sofa, watching The Young Ones reruns, Alex' legs in Miles' lap, Miles' hand on Alex' knee. Silently sharing everything as they watch telly. 


End file.
